


New Teacher

by KaytheJay



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23996044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaytheJay/pseuds/KaytheJay
Summary: Crowley, out of seemingly no where, decided to spend a few years teaching choir.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 9





	New Teacher

**Author's Note:**

> This is a hyper specific headcannon that I really don't think anyone else has talked about besides me, so I'm really not expecting much interest in this one.  
> The choir stories in here may or may not be based off of things I have actually experienced within either band or choir. Am I going to specify what's real and what's fiction? Absolutely not.  
> As far as you go, thank you so much for reading this little indulgent fic of mine. I appreciate you very much.

“You never even went to school for anything!” Aziraphale said. “What has made you suddenly want to be a teacher? A choir teacher of everything.” Crowley shrugged.  
“I really don’t know, angel,” Crowley said. “I just feel as though my talents could be used elsewhere.”  
“And you feel as though ‘elsewhere’ is in a classroom?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley nodded. Aziraphale sighed. “Well alright. You do, after all, know what is best for you. Why choir though?” Aziraphale asked. “There are a number of other classes you might be better suited for. You’ve never even had a music lesson!” Crowley smiled.  
“Have too,” he replied triumphantly. “I actually have quite a deep understanding of music, if you must know. I learned piano from Mozart.”  
“I didn’t know he gave lessons?” Aziraphale said, more of a question than a statement.  
“Well, it took a bit of a demonic intervention for it to happen, but it happened.” Aziraphale shrugged.  
“Oh well,” he said. “And you’ve been hiding this from me?” Crowley shrugged.  
“Never seemed relevant,” came his reply. “How far away are you willing to go?”  
“What on Earth are you talking about?” Aziraphale asked.  
“For my schooling!” Crowley said. “I’m trying to find a good university for this sort of thing, but I don’t want to go too far away from you.” Aziraphale blushed.  
“Ah, yes, well . . . “ Aziraphale looked around the room. He was quite settled in his bookshop. Being in one place for a number of years tended to do that to a person. Perhaps he was a little too settled. He quite liked the bookshop though. He shook his head. “I don’t think I’m going anywhere any time soon,” Aziraphale said. “I quite like my shop. But don’t you worry about me when it comes to chasing this fantasy of yours. We will come out on the other side, you can go wherever you would like. I am not one to discourage an education!” Crowley clicked off the website he was on and looked at Aziraphale.  
“Of course I am going to pick around you. I don’t want to leave you for four years,” Crowley said. “I couldn’t very well do that. Besides, you will make a good study partner.” Aziraphale smiled, unable to hide the fact that he was grateful that Crowley didn’t want to leave him.  
***  
At first, school had been a struggle for Crowley. As Aziraphale had pointed out to him, he’d never been to school. Never had to study for anything in his life. Never had to be anywhere at a specific time that he hadn’t had a hand in deciding. He very nearly failed his first semester simply due to dilly dallying and being unable to focus in some of his classes.  
However, when it came time for his finals, Aziraphale helped him to try out various study methods and learned what worked. Aziraphale insisted on helping Crowley wherever he could, with mutterings that sometimes humans expected too much of themselves. Crowley was able to pull himself out of having a failing grade, surprising all of his professors. By the end of the second semester, Crowley had somehow pulled so far ahead that he was setting the curve for all of his classes. Even Aziraphale hadn’t expected that to be the outcome, but he was pleasantly surprised.  
The years passed and Crowley became as well versed in music as a person who had been learning from a very young age. Though, if what Crowley had said about the Mozart piano lessons was true (Aziraphale didn’t think it was, though Crowley’s piano skill had to have come from somewhere), he had been learning music for much longer than anyone else. He was just more out of practice than any of his peers in his classes.  
Eventually it came time for his graduation. With being on top of his class, he had a number of job offers all over the country of schools who wanted him. He just had to take his pick. Aziraphale decided that he would let Crowley have full control over where they ended up and that he would shut down the bookshop in order for Crowley to chase this little whim of his. When Aziraphale said this, Crowley surprised him by saying that he wanted to teach in America.  
Aziraphale was nothing but supportive, however. He thought it strange that Crowley wanted to leave the country they had made their base since the dawn of England, but he was happy to make the necessary changes. So the pair packed up their most important belongings and headed to the states in order to let Crowley take his little teaching whim as far as he wanted it to go.  
They ended up in a very small town in the middle of some Midwestern state that Aziraphale didn’t much care to know the name of. They were all so similar and part of the same country, so he really didn’t think that it mattered all that very much. Crowley had gotten the job, unopposed. Perhaps a little intervention had had something to do with it, but he would never tell.  
“Aziraphale,” Crowley said the night before his first day.  
“Hm?” Aziraphale asked, half asleep.  
“What if they don’t like me? What if this was all a big mistake?” Aziraphale yawned.  
“Well, you’re a demon, Crowley,” Aziraphale said. “It isn’t much like we can’t just go start back over in England. Or even somewhere here if that’s what you’d prefer.” He grabbed Crowley’s hand and used his other to rub his eyes. “But you will do just fine.” Aziraphale said. He yawned again. “Now it has been quite some time since I’ve had a good sleep, so if you don’t mind-” Crowley nodded and shut his beside light off and settled himself under the blanket.  
Why did he much care about what these humans thought anyway? He was a demon after all. His bosses down in Hell were more terrifying than anyone else. Which is why he’d wanted to take up this job in the first place. He hadn’t been securing nearly as many souls as he had in years past, this he knew. And he figured what better way to get access to a wide range of people than to become a teacher? Every year he would get new students to tempt and corrupt. Plus he knew that everyone in band or choir was part of a sort of cult anyway. Why not add some demonic influence into the mix?  
***  
The next morning he woke up early. He felt well rested and not at all tired, but that was to be expected. He was a demon. Demons didn’t actually need to sleep at all (which had provided him with extra study time during his time at uni. This is also part of the reason why he was able to pull through and do so well in his classes).  
He miracled himself to look nice. Not a hair out of place, clothes perfectly pressed. And, of course, a pair of glasses. Not that he needed them to see, but it would be easier to put influence to a pair of glasses to mask his eyes than it would be his eyes themselves. Aziraphale would be quite proud of how he looked right then. The angel, however, was still asleep. He would have to wait to see his demon until after the work hours ended.  
Crowley almost laughed at that. What was he doing? He was a demon. He didn’t need a day job. He didn’t need a job at all. It’s not like he needed money for anything. He could just miracle or whatever anything he wanted or needed. It was one of the perks of being an ethereal being. Never having to pay for anything but still living whatever life you wanted to live. It was quite nice.  
Right before leaving, Crowley planted a soft kiss on Aziraphale’s forehead. Aziraphale smiled though Crowley knew he was still sound asleep. He would be for a number of hours. Once the angel actually slept, he could be gone for a week without a problem. In fact, the angel sometimes had a hard time controlling himself when it came to sleep.  
Once Crowley made it to the school, he made his way to the classroom that was now his. He’d been here a few times before during the teacher work days that had come before the start of the school year. This had allowed him to get to know the music library that they currently had and put a few personal touches to the room.  
He hadn’t expected any students to come in before class started. Why would students want to spend their morning in a classroom before classes actually started. However, he was wrong. A number of students were wandering the music hall before the first bell.  
“Oh! You must be our new teacher,” a girl said after walking in and placing her stuff on a chair. She hummed trying to think of his name, but she couldn’t think of it. “I’m Rachel, by the way,” she said.  
“Anth- Mr. Crowley,” Crowley said. “But you can just call me Crowley.” Rachel cocked her head.  
“You aren’t what I expected,” She said. Crowley didn’t know how to take that. “I mean, you don’t look like a teacher.”  
“What is that supposed to mean?” Crowley asked. The girl shrugged.  
“This is going to be a learning experience for us all.” The first bell rang. Rachel smiled. “Well it was nice to meet you, Mr. Crowley,” She said as she picked up her things. “See you third period.” Crowley relaxed into his chair. That was quite alright with him. The principal had said something about his first period being open. But that just allowed him to settle in and get everything set up that he had planned for the day.  
The first day went just about as well as Crowley could have hoped it would have. The students were . . . well . . . human teenagers. They seemed to be ok with Crowley though. For now at least. He could live with the for now.  
When he arrived at home, he found that Aziraphale had made him a nice dinner and was playing some of their favorite music. Crowley filled Aziraphale in on the day, how much he actually enjoyed the students and the other teachers. How he’d already made friends with the band teacher, Miss King, who was doing her best to make Crowley feel welcome in the new school. She was even giving him advice on some of the . . . tougher students.  
Of course, as it goes with any new thing, Crowley struggled with the fundamentals of teaching at first. By the first concert, however, he got it figured out. All the while, he had a stronger and stronger bond with the students. His morning crew grew to be even bigger than the crew who stuck to the band room, which he took as a compliment. He was excited to be having nice talks with students.  
He even came to have a few very distinct memories that he would likely never forget.  
***  
It was a usual morning, he didn’t expect anything unusual. Everything was going smoothly. His morning crew had filled him in on the most recent gossip (which he didn’t care much for in and of itself, but it allowed him to plant the seeds that would secure the souls for Satan), as per usual. Nothing at all out of the ordinary.  
However, at the start of class, a horrible smell assaulted his nose. It was the worst thing he had ever smelled in all his time on Earth, and he had been in London before indoor plumbing had been invented. It was so bad, in fact, that it completely derailed class.  
“What the hell is that?” He exclaimed. The freshmen, who weren’t yet used to hearing teachers cuss, giggled. Everyone else either held their noses, were looking for the source, or both. Crowley followed his nose to the back of the classroom where he ended up finding a carton of milk that had exploded all over the trophies. “This is-” Crowley shook his head. “Who thought to do this? Who left a carton of milk in here?” He shook his head again. “Go- that is just awful.” The smell was starting to make his eyes water. “Alright, you know what, we are going to the auditorium and I will be calling for the janitor.  
They ended up spending the rest of class in the auditorium because the smell didn’t quite go away, even after the janitor had cleaned it up. Crowley popped in to open the door to let the smell drift its way out of the room. He didn’t know what he would be doing, but he knew he’d be spending the afternoon trying to take care of that awful smell.  
***  
“Now children,” Crowley said sternly, “You can’t just go around doing that salute.” The salute he was refering to was the Nazi salute. His students had decided that it would be a fun game to do it during class, especially during warmups. Of course, none of the students took Crowley seriously. Crowley wasn’t even taking himself seriously. He very well knew what happened to people who used the salute, and it was going to help him earn points down with his bosses that actually mattered down in Hell.  
Eventually, the salute evolved into a full room of high school students who had for some reason become obsessed with communism. In particular, the boys, but there were a few of the girls who played along with it. Crowley found it quite comical and had a hard time disciplining them seriously, as he needed to do in order to actually keep his job. The Holocaust had been no joke. Lots of people had been murdered and forced into camps. Communism was no joke, just look at what was going on in North Korea.  
Still, Crowley found that this was hilarious and was doing exactly what he had gotten this job to do.  
***  
By the end of the year, the students had a list of so-called “Crowley-isms” which was a list of things that Crowley had said throughout the year. Things like “raise the level of suck” or “if you make a mistake, make it loud” or, a student favorite, “I am giving you the D and you are still not doing anything right. Come on guys.”  
And Crowley had to admit, it was nice knowing that the kids actually paid attention to him. He was surprised at how much each and every one of them had improved musically through the year. A few of the shyest people in choir had even auditioned for solos or taken a solo to contest by the end of the year. He couldn’t help but feel proud of his students. Though, he was a demon so it wasn’t quite like indulging in one of the deadly sins was a sin. Not to his people at least. But it was hard to think of it as a sin when it felt so nice. All of his students were working so hard to make themselves, and by extension the choir, better. Their group ended up being one of the top five in their entire division, which Crowley could hardly believe.  
It was, after all, his first year teaching. He hadn’t expected much to come of it. He was still learning how to do this job for himself. Of course, he couldn’t take all of the credit, but it was hard not to think about his influence on the kids. Of which a number had already secured themselves a spot in hell. Crowley could only imagine how far his reach would go the longer he did this whole teaching thing. Maybe, just maybe, this whole thing was a good thing after all.  
Well, not objectively good. No one in Heaven would be praising anything he was doing here. But, well, he was doing exactly what Hell would want him to do.  
After the last day of school, Crowley stumbled home, completely burnt out from the year. He had gone above and beyond for all of these kids, and was going to continue to do so throughout the summer by offering lessons. However, for tonight it was just him and his angel.  
As he had most nights, Aziraphale was making some sort of food when Crowley came home. Crowley stumbled into the kitchen and put his arms around his angel and kissed him.  
“I did it,” Crowley said. “I made it through the first year.” Aziraphale turned his face slightly to give Crowley better access to his cheek, before turning his focus back on the food. He didn’t, after all, want to burn it. Crowley kissed Aziraphale again and began swaying back and forth.  
“Oh Crowley, I am so proud of you,” Aziraphale said. He turned and pulled the demon closer by his belt loops. “I knew you could do it. You’ve worked so hard for this.” Aziraphale kissed the demon before abruptly pulling away. “That’s why I bought you this.” Aziraphale held up a bottle of wine. It wasn’t Crowley’s favorite drink in the world, but it was the kind of alcohol that the two of them had always enjoyed together. He popped the cork out and poured each of them a drink. “To you and all of your hard work these last few years!” Aziraphale held up his glass. Crowley smiled and clinked his glass against Aziraphale’s.  
“To me and all of my hard work.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hits and kudos mean the world to me. Comments fuel me into next week.   
> Find me on Tumblr @justanangelandhisdemon


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